" "You'd better hold your peace, my lad," observed Jonathan, in a menacing tone. "And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son. At least I can give you a glimmer. ‘You won’t get a thing out of her. You must come and tell me all about it, although I am not sure whether we shall forgive you for not having written to any of us.
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